Hello everyone! And yes, we're finally starting the story again after almost 2 months of waiting (I won't make you wait any longer, but don't hesitate to read the message I'll send at the end).
-----
It's been a while since we started walking, and yet Sofia is still curled up in my arms, silent.
Her face is still buried against my tattered shirt, as if she wanted to vanish into a pocket of warmth. Sometimes, a faint whimper escapes, weak, almost inaudible. And at every suspicious sound—a branch snapping, a gust of wind too sharp, wings beating somewhere far away—her little fingers clutch at me like a lifeline.
It's as if she feels every shift in the air more sharply than I do.
While I'm focused on Sofia, I turn my head—and there, just to my right… Sika.
She walks on, eyes fixed straight ahead, without trembling, without faltering, even though the elves must have hardly fed her.
We haven't exchanged a single word or question since escaping the base. Not even a glance at Sofia, even though she almost died like the rest of us.
Or did she? She never panicked, not once, during the whole escape. And that bothers me, because she could've helped. She could've reacted more often—but no. She just observed.
As if all of it—the screams, the blood, the terror—had nothing to do with her.
And that's what unsettles me.
I expected her to snap. Or to cry. To ask me what was happening, to scream at the injustice. Isn't that what anyone would do?
She looked like a lost child, torn from her life and thrown into an elven experiment base… That's supposed to break someone, isn't it?
But her? Nothing. Just silence. Just that strange distance, as if she were above it all. As if everything happening to us was just a bad play she'd already seen a hundred times.
I should be glad—a calm adult who knows this world is useful, especially in a place like this.
Maybe she's traumatized, in deep shock. Maybe she was already unstable before all this. Or maybe she's hiding something deeper. Something I haven't figured out yet.
But I don't have the luxury of pondering it now.
I'm alone with two people to protect—my little sister, still shaken, and a stranger with disturbing behavior. I have no supplies, no map, no short-term goal. And in my head, the screams from the base still echo. The children's screams. And the ones I might have left to die.
Night falls, and the forest begins to creak.
No village in sight. Just twisted trunks, leaves too thick, and the sounds of beasts whose faces I'd rather not know.
I lay Sofia against a mossy stump, wrapped in what's left of my coat, and turn to Sika.
"I'm going to find some dry wood. Don't move, I'll be right back."
She nods. Still silent.
I step away quickly, senses on edge. If I can at least light a fire, keep us warm… Sofia needs to sleep without trembling every two minutes. And honestly, so do I.
I don't linger. Barely ten minutes, maybe less. An armful of branches, some dry bark, a split log.
That should do it.
When I return, the sky is darker, painted in that shade between night and hell. Even if I've begun to hate this world, I have to admit it carries that wondrous side of an isekai.
But life is against me, because when I come back, I freeze.
The camp is in ruins.
The stump where I left Sofia is toppled, leaves scattered and trampled. Claw marks—or hoof prints—gouge the dirt. And Sika…
Sika is on the ground.
Lying on her side, panting, her arm bleeding. A deep gash splits her shoulder, and her face is pale, twisted by silent pain.
"Sika!"
I throw the wood aside and rush to her. My eyes dart for Sofia, my heart ready to burst.
"There… over there…" she whispers, pointing to a bush.
I rush over and find Sofia, curled up behind the leaves, eyes wide open, trembling—but alive.
I hold her tight, not even thinking. Then I go back to Sika, tearing a strip of fabric to press against her wound.
"What happened? What was it?"
She grits her teeth. Her voice is faint, hoarse.
"Something… fast… it jumped me. I only had time to… to protect the girl."
I look around, but there's no trace of retreat, no sound of any monster.
I patch her up as best I can while soothing Sofia and trying to get a fire going with the wood I dropped. Doing whatever I can to keep things from falling apart completely.
But in the back of my mind, a small doubt takes root.
Sika tells the truth. She's wounded. She saved my sister. That's what I see.
And yet… why does it feel like something doesn't add up?
The fire crackles weakly, a flickering glow in the heavy night. Sika sleeps—or pretends to, impossible to tell. Her breathing is slow, almost deliberate. I sit cross-legged, arms folded, eyes fixed on Sofia sleeping curled against my rough sack.
Or rather… sleeping.
A rustle. Soft, but unnatural. I turn my head just in time to see a slender silhouette slip behind the trees.
"Sophia!?"
I leap to my feet, heart in my throat. She's running. Barefoot, fragile, but fast. Too fast.
"Damn it… no!"
I dash after her, branches whipping my face, the firelight fading behind me. But she's already far. Every time I think I glimpse her, it's just a shadow darting away. She weaves through the forest as if it spoke to her, as if she knew exactly where to place her feet.
And me… I trip on a root. I fall, roll through the leaves, cheek pressed against the wet earth.
When I get back up, breathless, I hear nothing. Just crickets. The wind. And my heart pounding in my chest like a mad beast.
She's gone.
"Shit…"
I stay there, alone, the night pressing down on me like a suffocating bell. I don't know where she's going, or what went through her head. I don't even know why she didn't say a word. Was she afraid of me? Of Sika? Of something else?
I turn slowly, my face tight. Sika stayed at the camp.
Or she chose to stay.
But now, I'm alone with her.
And the little one… is gone.
"Are you going to chase after her?"
Her voice is low, calm. Like she's commenting on a play whose ending she already knows.
I grit my teeth.
"She was my sister."
"I know." She tilts her head. Her eyes glint in the dying firelight. "And yet, she left."
I step forward, anger still hot.
"You didn't see anything? Do anything?"
She barely lifts a shoulder, with that half-smile that makes me want to put a knife to her throat.
"You were out gathering wood. I was… busy surviving my wound."
My eyes flick down to her bandaged shoulder. The cloth is stained, but the bleeding has stopped. Too quickly.
"I don't trust you." The words slip out, hard, sharp.
This time she laughs. A short, amused breath, barely audible.
"Good. Never trust anyone, little hero in the making."
I scowl.
"Stop calling me that."
"Why?" Her smile widens, though her gaze stays cold. "You just killed your father without hesitation. You carry your sister like she's your talisman. You want to protect, to save, to fix. That's what heroes do. Even when it destroys them."
My throat tightens, but I say nothing.
She steps closer, slow, like a cat testing the patience of its prey.
"And your sister…" She pauses, her eyes sliding toward the black forest. "…she sensed something you refuse to see."
"What do you mean?"
Silence. Then, softly:
"That sometimes, it's better to run than to stay."
She turns her back and walks to the fire, as if the conversation were over.
Me, I stay rooted there, fists clenched, not knowing whether to follow her… or fear her.
I end up collapsing beside the fire, unable to keep my eyes open any longer. Sleep isn't gentle—it's heavy.
When I finally emerge, the sky is gray, smothered by clouds. The air is cold, damp.
Sika is already sitting by the embers, legs crossed, sword at her side. Her wound? Gone. As if it had never existed.
I push myself up slowly, muscles still sore.
"…Sophia."
The name escapes me, hoarse, as if speaking it could bring her back.
Sika cracks an eye open, but says nothing.
I swallow my frustration and change the subject.
"Where are we going now?"
She watches me for a long time, as if the question amused her.
"Where do you want to go?"
"…Anywhere we can breathe without running into an elf or a lunatic."
A thin smile tugs at her lips.
"Then you'll soon learn that place doesn't exist. This world is a game board… every square already painted with someone's blood."
I glare at her, wary.
"So what do you suggest? Stay here in this rotten forest, waiting for another monster to drop on us?"
She shrugs, serene.
"No. I suggest moving forward. Always. Even if you don't yet know what you're searching for."
I frown.
"And you? Do you know what we're looking for?"
Her gaze hooks into mine, and for the first time, I think I see something cross her eyes. Not fear. Not deceit. But a kind of ancient weariness.
"I've been searching far longer than you."
She rises, brushes her tunic absently, then turns toward the edge of the trees.
"Then come. The road is long. And you don't want to be stuck in place when the world starts moving."
She doesn't wait for me. She walks, as if she already knew the path.
Me, I gather what's left of the fire, adjust my torn coat, and follow.
Because deep down, I don't have a choice.
The forest stretches ahead, endless. Every tree looks the same, and every step sinks my boots into damp moss. The silence is heavy, broken only by the rustle of our clothes and the crack of dead branches underfoot.
After a while, I mutter:
"So where exactly are we going?"
Sika doesn't slow.
"East."
"Thanks for the precision, Lady Compass. And in the east, what's there?"
She pauses a second—or pretends to.
"Villages. Ruins. Abandoned roads. And sometimes… things best left unnamed."
I sigh.
"You know you're unbearable, right? You could at least give me a real place. A town. A name. Anything."
This time, she turns her head toward me. Her smile is thin, almost ironic.
"Why do you want a name? You think putting a label on a place will make it safer?"
I click my tongue, annoyed.
"No. But it'd keep me from walking blind like an idiot."
She laughs softly, a sound without warmth.
"You already are."
I stop, stung.
"Excuse me?"
She stops too, turns, and pins me with her gaze.
"You move forward without knowing what you want. You say you want to protect your sister, but she ran away. You say you want to survive, but you follow me without thinking. You want answers, but you're not ready to hear them."
I clench my fists.
"And you? What game are you playing since the beginning?"
She tilts her head slightly, amused by my anger.
"Me? I watch."
A long silence. We walk again, side by side, saying nothing for several minutes. Then suddenly, she adds, almost absentmindedly:
"You haven't realized yet, have you?"
"Understood what?"
She shrugs.
"That the whole world is an experiment."
I frown.
"An experiment? What kind of philosophical nonsense is that supposed to be?"
She doesn't answer. Her eyes drift up to the canopy, as if she could see farther than me.
"You've never heard of the legend of the Broken Sky?"
I blink.
"…The Broken Sky? No."
A smile slides across her face, but without warmth.
"Of course. You're just a child. How could you know it?"
She resumes walking, her steps silent on the moss, and her voice drops lower, slower.
"They say that one day, the sky opened like a wound. Black cracks tore through the blue. Lightning fell—not from clouds, but from the rifts themselves."
I raise an eyebrow, skeptical.
"A storm, then. You think I'm an idiot, swallowing your stories?"
"Not a storm." Her gaze hooks into mine, piercing. "The world itself broke. Enormous wings fell from the sky, crushing entire cities. Rivers caught fire. Colossal voices rose, as if gods themselves had begun to scream."
I freeze for a second. That was nothing like a village lullaby.
"And… what's it supposed to be? A parable, some old man's joke?"
She slowly shakes her head.
"No. It happened. Here, in these lands. People saw it. Some survived… long enough to tell."
A shiver runs through me despite myself.
"And what happened after?"
Sika falls silent for a moment, then continues, almost dreamily:
"After… the sky closed again. As if the wound had been stitched shut. But nothing was the same. The wind, the earth, the beasts… everything had changed. And above all, a voice descended upon the survivors. A voice that called itself 'System.'"
My heart skips a beat.
"Wait… the System? You mean the same one in our heads?"
A faint smile, mocking this time.
"Maybe. Maybe not. But one thing is certain—since that day, no one has ever truly been free. Everything became… watched. Regulated."
She keeps walking, and her tone turns almost cruel.
"And you, boy, you were born in this world already broken. So you don't know. You think it's normal."
I stand frozen for a moment, unable to reply, fists clenched.
I walk behind her, still shaken by what she just told me. The shattered sky, the lightning, the System's voice… it all sounded too precise to be a mere tavern tale.
Sika suddenly adds, as if the thought just came to her:
"You know… some say that when the wing crashed onto the city, it didn't burn away immediately."
I raise an eyebrow.
"A giant wing? Fallen from the sky? And it didn't… disintegrate?"
She nods slowly.
"Not entirely. A part of it calcified, like a mountain of scales. And they say the starving survivors… ate it."
I stop dead.
"Wait… ate it? Like… roast chicken?"
A twisted little smile passes her lips.
"Not exactly. Its flesh wasn't anything humanly edible. Hard as leather, soaked in dead flames. But some insisted. They said it was an offering. That by devouring the wing of something so great, they would inherit its strength."
I stare at her, incredulous.
"And?"
Her eyes wander among the trunks.
"Some died, of course. Their bodies burned from within, until nothing remained but charred husks. Others… survived. But they were no longer the same."
A chill runs down my spine.
"No longer the same how?"
"Their skin thickened, their eyes changed. Some spoke a language no one had ever heard. And above all… they weren't 'human' anymore, not in the way we understand it. Some went mad, others became unmatched warriors."
I swallow hard.
"You actually believe this crap?"
Sika chuckles softly, without turning to me.
"It's not about believing. Legends don't exist to be believed. They exist to remind us of what we'd rather forget."
I step closer, almost against my will.
"And you? Have you ever seen someone… who ate that wing?"
She freezes for a second. Then, without looking at me, she murmurs:
"Maybe you'll meet one sooner than you think."
------
Hello everyone!
I'm excited to let you know that the story is finally back with full intensity: expect a brand-new chapter every two days!
I went back and reread everything that's already been published, as well as the chapters I had written in advance, so rest assured—there won't be any storyline inconsistencies, even after all this time.
Second point:
I had to delete my old Discord account for personal reasons, but I recently created a new one. Here's the link to the new server:
👉
I'd love to build a small community there, and it'll be a place where I can directly answer your questions.
Third (and most exciting) news:
About three months ago, I started working on a brand-new story set in a different universe—this time with a high-quality co-writer by my side!
The first chapter will be released this October.
That's all for now! I hope to see you on Discord soon, and I can't wait to chat with you all again ❤️